3 A Basket of Trouble

by Beth Groundwater

  Charley laughed and held up his hands. “Okay, enough already.” He glanced back at the back office’s closed door. “I just hope that the fine for hiring Pedro is the only one I’ll be paying.”

  As if on cue, the door opened and Sam Unger stepped out. He held a piece of paper in his hand. “So what’s the story with this Jorge Alvarez?”

  “He no longer works here,” Charley replied. Claire could see that he was working hard to keep his voice calm.

  “Did you fire him right before we came because you knew he was illegal?”

  Charley exhaled. “I didn’t know until after you guys took Pedro. Jorge told me about his own circumstances that afternoon. He didn’t want me to have to pay a fine for him, too. I had to let him go after that, even though he’s worked for me for years. Did a damned fine job, too.”

  Unger peered at Charley but seemed to believe him. “His social security number is bogus. It’s a New York number, just like Pedro Trujillo’s.”

  Holding out his hands, Charley asked, “And how was I supposed to know that?”

  Shaking his head, Unger said, “You couldn’t, really. But now that we know and we have his home address,” he held up the paper, “we’ll be picking him up.”

  Jessica clutched the arm of the sofa. “That’s so unfair!”

  Charley slapped his thigh. “Damn it! Jorge told me he entered the country legally. His case is different than Pedro’s.”

  Unger shrugged. “Well he’s not legal now. We contacted the main office, and Mr. Alvarez doesn’t have a current green card. Hasn’t for years.”

  Jorge should be warned that ICE is coming for him. Claire decided to try to sneak out and call him. She rose silently and inched toward the outside door while Sam Unger’s attention was focused on Charley.

  Jessica glanced at her and gave a nod. She walked toward Charley, so Unger’s attention would be directed there and away from the door. “We’re going to petition for legal status for Jorge as an alien worker.”

  Unger snorted. “That won’t do much good. He’s not in any of the special job categories.”

  Claire gently eased the trailer door open, just as Jessica slapped the reception desk, probably to cover the noise of the door opening. “This is just not fair, not fair to him, or to us. We need him …”

  Claire didn’t hear the rest, as she eased the door closed, then high-tailed it down the stairs and to the barn. She didn’t have Jorge’s cell phone number, but she hoped that Brittany could contact her mother, who would. If they could get word to him, maybe he could hide out, stay away from his apartment.

  She ran into the barn and yelled, “Brittany!”

  With a startled expression on her face, Brittany came out of the tack room.

  “Quick, call your mother,” Claire shouted.

  “Why?”

  “Just do it and give me the phone!”

  Brittany pulled out her cell phone, punched a button and handed it to Claire. When Nancy Schwartz answered, Claire said, “Nancy, I need to contact Jorge right away. Do you have his cell phone number?”

  “You don’t need it.”

  “What?”

  “He’s with me now.”

  “Put him on the phone, then. I’m at Charley’s stable and—”

  “You can talk to Jorge in person in a sec. I’m picking up Brittany, and he’s with me. We’re driving into the parking lot right now.” She hung up.

  “No, no, no!”

  She tossed the phone to Brittany. “Call your mom back and tell her to leave right now!” Claire sprinted out of the barn toward the parking lot.

  Sure enough, Nancy Schwartz was turning her car into a spot. Jorge was sitting in the front passenger seat next to her. Nancy cut the engine, and Jorge got out and walked around to her side of the car to open her car door. He offered her a hand as if she was a queen. Nancy stood, ignoring her ringing cell phone.

  Claire stopped in front of them, huffing and puffing. “You’ve got … to leave … right now!”

  “Not without Brittany,” Nancy said. “There she is.” She waved at her daughter.

  Strolling lazily toward the car, Brittany waved back.

  “Run!” Claire shouted at her.

  With a puzzled frown on her face, Brittany picked up her pace.

  But it wasn’t fast enough for Claire. “C’mon, c’mon.”

  Nancy stared at her. “What’s the hurry?”

  “It’s ICE,” Claire said, “They’re here.”

  “They’re here?” Jorge asked. “Is Charley okay?”

  Brittany finally arrived. Nancy gave her a hug then held up her left hand in front of Brittany’s face.

  Claire stamped her foot and grabbed Jorge’s arm. “Damn it, it’s not Charley we’re worried about, it’s you! They—”

  Brittany shrieked. “Mom! What’s this?”

  Nancy wiggled her left hand, showing off the shiny new gold ring. She sidled up next to Jorge and clutched his arm. “We got married this morning.”

  He put his hand over hers and stood proudly, with a huge grin showing his white teeth.

  Brittany looked from her mother to Jorge and back again. “Ohmigod!”

  Rendered speechless, Claire stared at them, too apoplectic with worry to think of congratulating them.

  The smile started to fade from Jorge’s face. “Are you okay with this, Brittany?”

  She flung her arms around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m just so surprised. This is all so sudden.”

  “Sorry we didn’t tell you or take you with us,” Nancy said. “We figured we had to move fast. When Jorge and I talked to the immigration lawyer, he said Jorge’s best hope for getting a green card was for a close relative to petition for him. When we asked how close, he said like a parent, child, or sibling—which Jorge doesn’t have in the U.S.—or a spouse. We just looked at each other and said, ‘That’s it!’”

  Jorge put an arm around Nancy and smiled at her. “We went straight to the courthouse to get a marriage license and had the official there marry us right away.”

  Nancy returned his smile. “We were as giddy as two teenagers.”

  Brittany let her arms slide off of Jorge. “Oh, so this is just so he can become legal?”

  He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “No, Brittany, your mother and I love each other. This is forever.”

  Looking worried, Nancy gave Brittany a one-armed hug and peered at her daughter’s face. “So you’re sure you’re okay with having Jorge as a stepfather?”

  “Of course, Mom! I really like him, and even better, I like how you are with him.” She turned to Jorge and stage-whispered. “She’s been really bitchy since the divorce.”

  “Brittany!” Nancy gave her a playful slap, then the three of them embraced in a group hug.

  Claire had had enough. “Okay, this is all very nice, folks, but we have a problem. ICE is going to lock up Jorge in detention if he doesn’t get out of here right away.”

  Jorge looked at Nancy. “We knew this would happen. Maybe I should just let them take me now.”

  “On our wedding day?” She clutched his arm.

  He sighed. “As the lawyer said, you can bail me out after you file for a hearing. Then I will be free while we wait for the hearing.”

  “What if it’s too late for all that to happen today?”

  “I can handle one night in detention, especially if I can look forward to being with you after that.”

  The trailer door opened, and Sam Unger stepped out. He scanned the property as if looking for Claire. He turned and his gaze bored into them.

  “Your decision has just been made for you,” Claire said.

  eighteen:

  a horse knows

  Claire turned her car into the parking lot in front of the business office on the Glen Eyrie castle grounds
Saturday morning and

  stepped out. A cool breeze ruffled the nearby Ponderosa pines and carried their crisp scent to her. Her gaze rose to the top of the sandstone formation looming behind the building. She spotted the outline of a bighorn sheep standing on the ridge. It seemed to be watching her. She did the same for a while until it turned its massive curled horns and headed north along the ridge.

  Back to business, Claire pulled a barbecue-themed gift basket out of her trunk while thinking back on her early morning phone call with Charley. He and Nancy Schwartz were splitting the cost of Jorge’s bail. He said the immigration lawyer thought they would be able to get Jorge out of ICE detention that morning. If not, he would be out Monday at the latest. Then the slow and uncertain process of trying to get him a green card would begin. Both Nancy and Charley were filing petitions, but Nancy’s, for an alien relative, had the best chance of ultimately succeeding, though it could take months or even years.

  Claire hoped the newlyweds would be able to enjoy each other’s company that evening. Brittany was right. Nancy was a different person with Jorge. Claire could no longer imagine Nancy killing Kyle Mendoza.

  Besides, all of the signs now pointed to Tom Lindall. She had called Detective Wilson the night before to tell him about the Peak View Stable company shirts and that she thought the scrap from Gunpowder’s hoof matched last year’s pattern. He remembered they had searched Charley’s employees’ closets for a shirt with a matching pattern, but not Lindall’s. Given that Tom and Vince were potential suspects, Wilson ruefully admitted that was an oversight. After thanking her, he said he would obtain a search warrant to check Lindall’s, and all of his last year’s employees’ shirts, for a hole that matched the cloth fragment found on Gunpowder’s hoof.

  As Claire hefted the basket and walked toward the small office building, a flutter of hope rose in her heart. Hope that the case would be solved, that the dark cloud of suspicion over Charley’s stable finally would be lifted. And hope that her brother’s life could return to some semblance of normal. But then she worried her lip. She had been hopeful before and been proven wrong.

  Juggling the basket, and avoiding the sharp barbecue fork and tongs poking out of the top, she pushed the door open and walked into the foyer. She found the office for the Executive Assistant to the Development Officer and knocked on the doorframe.

  The middle-aged black woman inside looked up from her desk and rose. She waved Claire in and focused her gaze on the basket. “Oh that’s lovely, just lovely. Here, put it on my desk and let me look at it.”

  Claire set it down and stepped back. “You said your boss was a gourmet griller, so I worked with a barbecue theme.”

  The woman peered through the cellophane. “I see some interesting spice rubs and marinades in there.”

  “And a few local hot sauces for zip.” Claire had sorted through her collection of hot sauces to make sure she didn’t include any with lewd names. Glen Eyrie Castle was owned and operated by the Navigators, a Christian mission organization. Sauces with names like Ass Blaster, Screaming Sphincter, and Biker Bitch might be fun novelty items for some, but not for this group.

  Claire pointed toward the back of the basket. “I included red cedar grilling papers and wine-aged oak strips, too.”

  “Oh, this is perfect,” the woman said while clapping her hands. “He’ll be so happy with this birthday gift from the staff. Thank you!”

  Claire knew the man’s birthday wasn’t until Monday. “Should we hide the basket somewhere?”

  “No need,” the woman said. “He’s out all day scouting trails to see which ones might work for horseback riding. Take a load off while I write you a check.”

  Her interest piqued, Claire sat in the visitor’s chair in front of the desk. “Horseback riding? So you’re going to allow people to ride horses on your trails as well as hike them?”

  The woman took a checkbook out of her desk drawer. “Not quite. We don’t want private individuals bringing their horses in and wandering all over the place. We were thinking of offering organized group rides instead, so we can keep the horses on separate trails from the people and control where they go.”

  “So you’re going to build a stable on the property?” Claire was concerned that this could pose even more competition for Charley.

  “Oh no.” The woman waved a hand. “We want to contract it out, have a local stable bring in horses when we need them.” She leaned back in her chair and furrowed her brow. “We don’t want a corral on the grounds, but we may have to build one if we can’t find a stable willing to work with us. We’d really like to find a way to offer horseback rides on the grounds. Our conference attendees keep asking for them. We’re just not sure about all the logistics.”

  Claire scooted forward in her chair and tried to contain her excitement. “I may have the answer for you then. My brother, Charley Gardner, just opened a stable almost directly across 30th Street from your entrance. He’s running trail rides in the Garden of the Gods Park now. Visitors could do all the check-in and be matched with horses at his stable, then he could bring in groups from there.”

  The woman’s eyes widened. “That sounds ideal!”

  Claire warmed to the topic. “You wouldn’t have to worry about a corral or barn on your grounds, just horses on your trails.”

  The woman tore the check out of the checkbook. Before handing it to Claire, though, she paused. “Wait. I remember reading about a murder and a suicide happening at a nearby stable. Is that your brother’s?”

  Damn. “The suicide was really murder, and the police have already apprehended that suspect.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “He wasn’t an employee of the stable,” Claire added quickly. “And the police are very, very close to solving the other murder. Again, their prime suspect is not a stable employee. My brother’s stable has just had the awful bad luck to have been the location where both of these killings occurred. They have no relation to him or his business.”

  The woman looked thoughtful. “I’ll talk to my boss about it.”

  Claire’s heart sank. The phrase was a classic dismissal.

  Then the woman smiled. “You know, I’m a firm believer that if you pray about something, God provides the answer. I’ve been praying about this, and here you are. Not only did you bring us this wonderful gift basket, you may have brought us the answer to our problem.”

  And to Charley’s problems competing with Peak View Stables. Relieved, Claire returned the smile.

  She exchanged one of Charley’s cards for the check and left the office with a spring in her step. She decided to immediately drive to his stable and deliver the potential good news.

  ———

  While Claire was telling Charley and Jessica the exciting news out on the trailer porch, Tom Lindall’s blue pickup truck drove into the parking lot. He got out and swung the door shut with a loud slam. He marched toward the trailer, his body stiff with anger.

  “Uh oh,” Charley said. “He’s probably found out about the trick I played on him and he’s mad.”

  When he moved toward the trailer steps, Claire stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Remember Tom Lindall may be a murderer, Charley. Be careful.”

  Charley shot her a startled look. Then he studied the older man striding toward them. “He doesn’t seem to be carrying a weapon, as far as I can tell, and I can take him in a fight, if it comes to that.”

  “Still, keep an eye on him.” Claire turned to Jessica. “I bet Detective Wilson is looking for Tom Lindall right now. Maybe you should call him and tell him the man’s here. We might need reinforcements, too.”

  “For one sixty-some-year-old man?” Charley’s look was incredulous.

  “For one possible killer,” Claire answered. She nodded at Jessica, who bit her lip and went inside to make the call.

  By then, Tom had reached the porch and stomped up the
steps. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” He stabbed a finger in Charley’s chest.

  Charley stepped back. “What’s the problem, Tom?”

  “You made me cancel a whole day’s worth of trail rides and waste my staff’s time cleaning my stable top to bottom.”

  “And how did I make you do that?”

  “By spreading the rumor that Parks and Rec thought one of your horses caught strangles from one of mine. Then I find out today that your horse isn’t even sick.”

  “We brought Outlaw back to the stable this morning,” Charley said to Claire. He put his hands on his hips and stared at Lindall. “And where did these rumors come from, Tom?”

  Red-faced, Tom waved his hands. “People talk.”

  “No, you planted a spy here.” Charley poked a finger in Tom’s chest this time. “Hank Isley has been feeding you information about my operation the whole time he’s been working here, and it finally backfired on you.”

  Tom stiffened, his hands clenched at his side. “You’ve got no proof of that!”

  “Oh, yes I do. He’s the only one I told that story to, and yes, I did it deliberately to prove once and for all that he’s your spy. And here you come striding in this morning and confirm it.”

  “I don’t even know the man!”

  “Bullshit. I know Hank used to work for you. And Claire here saw you talking to him at Jessica’s fundraiser event.” He pointed toward the corral. “In fact, it’s about time I confront the spy himself about this. You can come along or not—your choice. Since no trail ride went out this morning, Hank’s over there replacing a couple of broken boards.”

  Charley pushed past Tom, clattered down the steps and strode toward the corral without bothering to check if anyone was following. Tom stood scowling for a moment, then took off, his shorter legs pumping hard as he tried to catch up with Charley.

  Claire followed Tom, a shiver crawling up her spine. Had Charley just turned his back on a killer?

  When the three of them reached the far side of the corral where Hank was hammering in a fresh board, he stopped and glanced at each of them in surprise.